


Survival 101

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Philinda 24 Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 00:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5353844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Day 4 of Philinda 24 Kisses. Prompt Word: "Flannel"<br/>----</p><p>Everyone learns something different in Survival 101. But it's how that knowledge is applied that matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival 101

  
She couldn't feel her toes.

  
She'd never admit it- that she was cold, losing coherent thought as she huddled in her parka and stared bitterly at the man on the other side of the room, whose face seemed too flush as he scanned the tablet in his hands. Phil Coulson seemed like little more than a paper-pushing boy scout who wore starched white shirts and perfectly ironed ties to dinner with his mother, and when Fury had partnered them up she'd had doubts enough for days that he'd actually be able to handle himself in the conditions of a New England winter.

  
Ironed ties. To dinner with his mother. The best Melinda wore to dinner with _her_ mother was a black dress with pearls- and even that was rarely enough to distract her from the endless questions about her grades in 'Espionage' and 'Peggy Carter: The Founding of S.H.I.E.L.D'. There was a hope about her mother when Melinda talked about anything S.H.I.E.L.D related, and her daughter had long ago stopped hoping that Lian May would give up the idea that her daughter was planning to quit for better agencies.

There _were_ no better agencies, she thought, puffing quietly into the scarf wound tight about her neck. But her mother would never say otherwise, and she was never leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. So a stalemate remained, as if often did.

"I still don't see any heat signatures."

"Of course you don't." The color remained in his cheeks as Coulson looked at her, and his brow furrowed. "What is it?"

"You're turning blue."

"No, I'm not."

"Your lips- they're blue." He crossed the room quickly, glancing through the window at the sky dotted with pale, sparkling stars. It reminded her of the diamonds sprinkled through her hair on the day of her senior prom. Which had been the only time, Melinda recalled, that she'd let her mother talk her into going to a formal dance of any kind before she'd graduated. Logan Campbell, his fumbling fingers undoing her dress, teardrop diamonds spilling into cleavage far too enhanced to be her own- and yet the magic of a push-up bra had made  
it so. _I must be losing my mind. I haven't thought of him in years_. "Melinda?"

"Coulson, I'm fine." But he was tugging at the zipper on his coat, revealing the thin black pullover with a glossy S.H.I.E.L.D logo on the right breast, and as her teeth began to chatter his fingers curled beneath the hem and began to pull the shirt upward. "What are you doing?"

"Sharing some layers." The brilliant orange had her eyebrow arching despite the cold- and she wondered momentarily if she was hallucinating the defined muscles peering through as his undershirt came away from the waist of his jeans. "I'm wearing a few extra- you look like you could use one or two."

"Flannel?" It felt warm already, as his fingers drew a zipper- hers, she realized belatedly- down and capable hands began to peel her own meager layers away. "Hey. What are you..."

"Don't tell me your fingers are warm enough to do this. Besides- survival 101. Layering."

"I thought survival 101 taught us to get naked in a sleeping bag for warmth."

"Whose survival class did _you_ take last semester?" His eyebrows wiggled, and a weak laugh burst out through the chattering teeth, prying it's way through a jaw clenched tightly with cold. She'd been in his dorm room for the majority of the previous semester, naked and comfortable beneath a quilt patched from Captain America pj's and bits of his father's t-shirts...things he'd admitted his mother had kept as mementos with the intent of sending her son away with pieces of home. They'd survived, all right, and it had been the best way  
she'd ever thought she could. "Hold out your arms."

"Okay." It felt like frisking, his hands taking a course down her body that seemed longer than usual- an excuse to feel her up that he didn't even need. And the flannel shirt that now covered her S.H.I.E.L.D pullover created an entirely new feeling of warmth that replaced the one filling her belly at the memory of those days spent beneath the quilt. They'd even jokingly _referred_ to it as Survival 101, a code name for the times they'd be among friends and the need to keep their relationship a secret had been important to the both of them.

"Better?"

"Much." Even her fingers felt a little warmer now, as Phil took her hands into his and rubbed vigorously. "Were you only wearing one?"

"It's all I have left." He began the process of replacing layers, breath puffing in tiny clouds as the cold crept between them. "Someone keeps taking them out of my closet."

"If I took them, don't you think I would have worn one?"

"I never said that I thought it was you- but that comment might be considered enough for a search when we get back, don't you?" There was movement outside- enough to cover the stars for a moment, and Phil tugged his ski mask back on before leaning toward the window. "Get ready. I think they'd landing."

  
"Thank you." The opportunity was enough that she could say it, and his eyes twinkled as he reached into the pocket of his parka for his weapon. "Remind me to thank you a little better than this...when we get back."

  
"At length," He agreed, and Melinda swore she could see a smile behind the mask. "I'm looking forward to it."

  
_So am I,_ she thought, tugging on her own mask to follow him into the dark, and the idea of thanking him wearing _only_ the flannel she wore beneath her parka came to mind. _So am I.  
_


End file.
